Slowly, as Qui-Gon watched, Xan unfastened his clothing in the manner Qui-Gon had been taught only moments before, but there was a difference. As Xan's experienced fingers moved across the silks, Qui-Gon found himself mesmerized; it was easy to imagine those same fingers brushing across his skin. Easy to want them there, moving slowly, sensually...but it was wrong, unthinkable; that such needs could be there, just beneath the surface, raw and aching to be met, stole breath from his body and brought cold fear rushing up within him.
He had grown accustomed to wanting Kenobi; he had learned to accept his lust for the other slaves, when they used their talents to show him a side of himself he had not known could exist.
But to look at Xanatos -- at his smooth skin, at the strong lines of muscle and the curves of shoulder and hip - he could feel the hardness against his belly, and he knew that his body demanded its own sacrifices. Somehow, he had to regain control of his needs, but it was so difficult to put aside the wanting...
Xanatos laid his clothes carefully aside and approached the bed, climbing on from the foot of it, settling back on his heels near the edge. He hesitated, and the words he spoke seemed difficult for him. "The Regent prefers to take his bedmates, to possess them. You will be no exception. He will enjoy dominating you, Qui-Gon." Something like hurt passed across his former student's face. "So you must let go of that part of you kept silent for so long, if you wish to survive here, to please him."
"I do not wish to survive here," Qui-Gon said, almost automatically, and somewhere inside, he registered his own surprise at the lack of passion in his denial. "I will find a way to leave this place."
"Will you? I wonder," Xanatos said, in a tone more harsh than Qui-Gon had expected. "He is drawn to you, and he is most persuasive."
"I am not his slave," Qui-Gon answered softly.
"You will be." The words were simple, and they had the desired effect; a hot blush lit Qui-Gon's cheeks. "So. The thought of this is not repulsive to you?"
Qui-Gon said nothing, and his exterior was that of the calm master, but Xanatos had once known him better than anyone alive, and it was not possible to hide his curiosity.
"You must call on your desire, Jedi. And let it serve you in this place, as you will serve him." Xanatos gave him a knowing look, and without warning, he crawled up Qui-Gon's body, pressing his lithe form against the larger man. "He will cause you to forget that you were a Jedi. You will do anything to keep his favor, to feel him inside you. You will break the Code, and be glad of it." Xanatos was touching him, hands sure on his body, finding and stirring every pleasure point he possessed. "And when you find yourself forgetting what you once were, you will know the truth of being owned."
Hot, greedy lips covered his, and a hand gently clasped his erection, moving with deliberate strokes, stirring him to full hardness. "I will not take you. That is for my master alone," came the soft whisper. "You must learn the purity of this act for yourself, in another way. And I will teach you this..."
Xan sat up suddenly, drawing Qui-Gon up with him, and turned his back to the Jedi, straddling his legs. He began to undulate, rhythmically, irresistibly, his ass against Qui-Gon's stomach. He brought one of Qui-Gon's large hands forward, and moaned as it enclosed his cock, moving in the same rhythm.
"Do you know what it is, to take another inside you?" Xan's words were soft, growled against his throat. "Have you ever sunk deep into the tightness of another, thrusting until you find ecstasy?"
"No," Qui-Gon groaned, feeling the last threads of his sanity and control slipping away as the rounded ass pressed against him, and his swollen shaft slipped between the parted cheeks. Years of celibacy, undone at the first touch of the Regent's hand, had been torn away by his lessons in pleasure. The man swaying sensuously against him made him want to forget everything but the glint of dark rapture in those blue eyes, and the promise of what would come when the lessons were over. It was so easy, to lose himself in the stirrings of his desire...
"That is a feeling you must understand, to be what he wants," Xan whispered, head thrown back against Qui-Gon's shoulder. "You must know what the sensation is, what pleasure your body gives him, so that you may understand how to increase it." Slowly, Xan rocked, and his rhythmic writhing brought Qui-Gon closer and closer to that hidden entrance. "Now you must take me, and it will all be clear to you." His whisper became urgent, and he rose up, bringing Qui-Gon's cock in line, so that it pressed against Xan's passage. "Take me. I'm prepared for you...I'm slick, and ready..."
Qui-Gon's mind exploded in a red-hot fury of lust. His hands closed over Xan's hips, pulling him even closer, and bent him forward. Immediately, Xan assumed a posture of submission, hips thrust toward Qui-Gon, head lowered on pillowed arms.
Without tenderness, Qui-Gon took the rounded hips in his big hands and caressed them, staring at the sight presented before him. He shuddered, a soul-wracking tremor that shook him from the core, and pressed the tip of his cock to the tight ring, breaching it easily. He moved the hips beneath him, and his eyes fluttered closed as he sank in, pushing slowly to the hilt, buried in the clutching heat.
He began to move, urged on by Xan's guttural cries of pleasure, rolling his hips hard, urgently, stroking deep, striking the point of ecstasy inside the younger man that made him buck beneath each thrust. Closer and closer to that moment where rapture cannot be denied, and Qui-Gon went howling across the brink, satiated, spending himself inside his former padawan, in an act he could not have comprehended even a few days before.
With that thought lingering in his mind, amid the haze of orgasm, he pulled his softening shaft free of Xan's body and dropped back on the bed, breathing in great gasps of air. His thoughts whirled in a thousand directions. He was a Jedi, trained to control his emotions, to ignore his passion, to focus it elsewhere. And yet, he took perverse pleasure in using Xanatos, knowing the 'lesson' was just as easily taught by another.
He wanted what he had just given Xanatos, and he wanted it from the Regent. More than anything he had ever desired in his life. His lust was strong, deep enough that he would deny all he was to indulge it.
Guilt and shame cascaded through his soul, tainting him, and he tried to push aside his longing, but he was out of control, and he could not draw the Force to him to calm his raging feelings.
Xanatos crept up beside him, wrapping his arms around Qui-Gon, calming the shivers that would not stop, that were born of dismay and overwhelming need. "Is this what you want?" Xan asked softly, combing his fingers through the tangled locks of silvered hair that feathered across Qui-Gon's shoulders. "This life, this hunger that controls your body? This is what the Jedi were afraid of, this base carnality. This is what they spent years training you to subdue, to make certain you would not succumb." The words were insidious, twining together and snaking through Qui-Gon's consciousness like tiny serpents. "Will you now leave behind the Code, and all that makes you who you are? Is this what you want, to be a slave to his passions, to open your body at his whim, to be possessed?"
Yes, thought Qui-Gon, yes, and I will kneel before him, and beg him to take his pleasure in me, and on me, and I will use my mouth and my hands to bring him joy, I will be his in all things... The sheer darkness of his thoughts, his needs, terrified him, and he struggled to master them, to put things into perspective.
"If you give in to desire, you are no longer a Jedi," Xan whispered. "Is this what you want?"
There was no choice to be made; Xan's words reminded him there was only one path, away from that which he craved, and back to the center of his being.
"No," Qui-Gon said, and the word was wrenched from him, a denial of his heart, of his body, of the Force's demands.
"Then you must swallow your pride, and doubt, and agree to his conditions," Xan said softly. "Become his personal guard, as he demands. You must protect him. It's the only way."
"I cannot." His refusal was strangled, and it choked him as he spoke the words. "I cannot serve the Dark side."
"Then you will serve his desire, until he tires of you, and in that passion, you will cease to be what you are. What you were born to be." Xanatos abruptly moved away.
Qui-Gon sat up, moving to the other edge of the bed. He could feel the other man's eyes on him, but he couldn't bear to look. "I won't betray the Jedi," he murmured.
Clothes rustled as Xan dressed quickly, then came to the side of the bed nearest Qui-Gon. He brushed his fingertips across Qui-Gon's collarbone, and his hand came to rest over Qui-Gon's thudding heart.
"You already have, Master. Here."
Obi-Wan Kenobi lowered himself into a chair, determined not to clutch at his side. He allowed himself the luxury of a grimace only because there was no one to witness it, and stopped to catch his breath. It would take longer to heal this way, with so much pressure on him to move, to be visible, to perform.
He swiped a hand across his face, casting an angry look toward the climate control panel. The heat was an added irritation, one of many. With an impatient motion, he jabbed a finger into the datapad, re-reading the information regarding the weapons employed by the assassin, and his frown became even deeper. He couldn't hope to protect Anakin against a skilled assassin with that kind of knowledge. It was far superior to his own training, and he knew his limitations where the use of weapons was concerned.
With a savage motion, he flung the pad aside and lowered his head onto his hand. Memories crowded in on him, and he pressed his fingers into his closed eyes, willing them away. It hurt too much to think of the past.
Valorum had spent the better part of the afternoon trying to convince him to set the Jedi free, to allow him to pursue his own destiny. Every word felt hollow to the Regent, ringing tonelessly against his certainty that the bond between them would serve some useful purpose. Valorum, to his credit, would not be dissuaded, and Obi-Wan sighed. His chancellor always had his best interests at heart, but if only he could feel the Force, he might have a broader perspective.
The thought brought a small chuckle. His own perspective had been skewed of late, and his ability to feel the Force irrelevant. If he could not control it, the Force was of no use to him. It had built a bond he could not fathom between his body and that of a stranger, and he could not comprehend the purpose of it. There was no love for Jinn, only a growing lust, and a feeling of connection that became harder to deny with each encounter.
Without moving from the chair, he moved the tip of his finger, and the holovid began to play on the main screen of his quarters. Anakin, calmly debriefing Maul as to Imperial edicts and philosophy. The scene seemed wrong, and Anakin's aura of calm reached him even through the filter of time. It was dark, and growing more in tune with the Darkness every moment. Soon, it would be too powerful for him to convert, and his status as a member of the walking wounded would make things even more difficult.
Obi-Wan glanced across the room, and the sparkle of something small and beautiful attracted his gaze. He beckoned it with the Force, and it came easily into his fingers. He rolled the faceted blue crystal gently between his hands, letting its energy flow sweetly into him, calming him. It had been so long...
Movement near the door made him turn his head, as his personal guard bowed low. "Excellency, the slave you summoned has arrived."
Obi-Wan made an impatient gesture and the guard stepped aside to admit Qui-Gon Jinn. Immediately, Jinn's churning emotions slammed up against the bond Kenobi had tried so desperately to shut down in the interests of preserving the few secrets he still possessed. His proximity to the Jedi made it impossible to ignore those emotions, so he picked them apart, trying to separate the various threads. Anticipation and desire were mixed with apprehension, their colors so vivid in the strange bindings between them that Obi-Wan took a moment to steady himself against it.
Jinn knelt gracefully in front of the Regent, his long hair flowing across his shoulders and falling forward as he bowed his head. He waited there, the perfect picture of submission...it would have fooled anyone, aside from the man it was meant to fool.
Obi-Wan made his way over to Jinn and laid his hand on that soft mane of hair, sinking his fingers in, reveling in the texture of it. "Look at me, Jedi," he said, and Jinn's hair slid between his fingers as the other man raised his face. Blue eyes met hazel, and Obi-Wan was surprised by the neutral blankness he saw there.
"Your lessons progress well, I hear." Kenobi's fingers dipped beneath Qui-Gon's chin, tipping it up even more, and a finger wandered across the relaxed lips. "Ket'al is a most talented teacher."
Qui-Gon said nothing, but the blue of his eyes deepened a shade.
"I have a gift for you. It's time you begin to understand your place here." Kenobi moved stiffly away, toward a small table near his bed.
"Your wounds are healing well, I hope." The soft words brought Kenobi up short, and he swallowed the angry retort that leapt into his throat.
"They heal. Don't concern yourself," he replied roughly, picking up a square box of native bone and flicking the catch. He removed the object within and turned back to Jinn, only to find the Jedi studying him with eyes full of concern.
"You seem to be in pain." Jinn volunteered one more comment, and then fell silent.
Kenobi made his way back to where his slave knelt, and extended the object to Qui-Gon. "This is yours, now, as you are mine. Once it has been placed, the clasp will seal, and it cannot be removed."
Jinn reached up a hand and took the slave bracelet from Obi-Wan. Their fingers brushed together, and the touch lingered, as the Force whispered its insistent commands to each man.
Qui-Gon slowly pulled away, and examined the cool silver bracelet. Tiny diamond-shaped patterns of blue were woven through the length of it, fashioned of costly gems. He looked back up at Kenobi, and hesitated, muscles tensing. After a long moment, he reached up, mutely offering him the bracelet, angling his body so his arm was positioned close - waiting for Kenobi to place the ornament as he pleased.
Obi-Wan stepped back, allowing himself to sample the raw emotion bleeding across the bond. His breath quickened, and he rasped, "No. You put it on."
Qui-Gon stroked the surface of the bracelet, and his fingers trembled as he wrapped the metal around the muscle of his upper arm. It conformed to the shape of his arm and locked into place, and a shudder ran through Qui-Gon, who looked down and away.
Satisfied, Kenobi turned his burning gaze on his captive. "Now you are truly my property, Jedi. And we shall see what you have learned."
End.Feedback welcomed. destinaf@hotmail.com
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